Crave
by Calie1
Summary: Oliver thought the worst thing he had to deal with was Chloe's costume, he was mistaken. AU


Notes: This is for Chlollieween on the Chlollie LiveJournal. If you'd like to see the great banner that was made and a link for the pic of the bad guy, please visit my LiveJournal page. You can find the link in my profile. It's also much easier to keep up with my fics that way, I don't always update on .

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One month and three mummified bodies later Oliver Queen found himself standing among the rich, the famous, the breast implants, and the freaks.

A woman walked passed him, blond wig with curls piled high on her head, face painted pale with an abundance of eye make up and red lips, a lacy, satiny dress to short to be decent with a lacy petticoat peeking out beneath, lacy thigh highs, and the tallest stripper shoes he'd seen in years. She winked as she passed, bringing one finger up to press over his sternum and drag down to the 'V' of his shirt before continuing on her way, another woman dressed in the sluttiest nurse outfit he'd ever seen trailing behind her. Against his will his eyes followed. Oliver assumed Victorian era, but Halloween costumes didn't exactly pay attention to detail.

With a frown he pulled out his cell, hoping for a message, but finding none. Thirty minutes he'd been standing there, getting accosted by various women. A vampire, a schoolgirl, a cheerleader, a fairy...

"Our host is getting curious."

Oliver glanced behind him and frowned. "I'm aware of that." Turning away Oliver glanced at the entrance, watching the people still milling in.

"I think he is starting to suspect you don't like women?"

Turning sharply Oliver frowned. "Really? And I'm sure you did nothing to convince him otherwise."

Hal grinned. "Perhaps."

"I'm so glad you're having fun with the murdering psychopath."

"Yea, well, it's keeping him amused until the bait shows up, in the form of your date of course."

Having already turned away to face the door again, Oliver couldn't help the confusion that passed over his face. "Amused?"

"Come on, that cheerleader, she's a prostitute. A very expensive one, but our psychopath friend over there was all ready to spring for the bill." Hal shrugged. As if his ears were burning, the man they were speaking of turned towards them. "Did I mention that when he smiles my skin crawls?"

"You haven't stopped." Glancing down at his watch, Oliver sighed in annoyance. "This is fucking ridiculous." Turning towards Hal he continued. "We're never late. This isn't like Chloe to have everything so behind schedule."

Hal grinned over Oliver's shoulder. "The family isn't run as efficiently when mother is away."

"What?"

Noting Oliver's annoyed confusion Hal nodded over his shoulder. "My guess is that the reason the mission is running behind schedule is because the woman in charge isn't running the show, she's behind you."

Without even letting what Hal said sink in, Oliver spun around. The fact that Chloe was standing at the entrance had barely registered when she spotted him, eyes widening slightly. As she moved towards him, he got over the shock of her presence only because he was forced to deal with her current attire.

"I had no idea little miss pencil skirts and buttoned up blouses could dress so trashy," Hal said appreciatively.

"Shut up," Oliver growled.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist, trust me, I LOVE the skirts."

Oliver would have turned around to threaten bodily harm if he could have taken his eyes off of Chloe's approaching form. To his annoyance, the situation only worsened as she came closer. What started out as a to short sequined flapper dress, dripping with fringe, turned into so much more. Sheer black lace exposed her skin, starting between her breasts and continuing down in a 'V', halting dangerously close to where Oliver figured no man in that room had a right to see. The length of the dress itself was ludicrous, even little Marie Antoinette earlier had more covering her legs then Chloe did. Cleavage that was normally covered by business type blouses was exposed, and for the life of Oliver, for as long as he had known Chloe, he had never seen so much of her breasts.

"I can see you gearing up to ream her for the outfit, but it isn't really that bad. I mean if you didn't know her, she would look like every other girl here. Just because you've got the hots for her-." Oliver turned his head sharply and glared. "Sorry, but come on. It isn't that bad," Hal said, trying to placate him and diffuse the situation. Glancing over at her he started again. "I mean hey, it could be- Oh, wow." Hal nearly choked. "Never mind."

At that Oliver turned again, finding Chloe a few feet from him, a small crowd separating them. She had turned away to speak to someone. "What the fuck was she thinking?"

"Oliver..." Hal started as Oliver took off and groaned as he got away. With a sigh he rubbed the back of his neck, cursing whatever luck they had that sent Chloe Sullivan tonight with a backless dress that dipped so low, it was barely legal.

A large warm hand on the bare skin of her back drew her from her conversation with the strangers that stopped her. Dread made her wonder if it was another man. Chloe had reservations before donning the costume that Lois had picked out. It turned out her concerns had been well founded. Eyes had followed her in, a hand had smacked her ass, and she had gotten stopped before even reaching Oliver. She could only imagine who was coming from behind her now. Except when she turned to face the person she sighed in relief.

"Excuse us." Oliver said and pressed on Chloe's back, pulling her away and against his side as he led her from the stranger. Dropping his head so that his lips where close to her ear he whispered harshly. "What are you doing here? Where's Dinah?"

"Flu." Chloe shrugged. "How many other blonds do we know that were on hand?"

"And you had to wear _that_?" He asked lowly through gritted teeth.

Noting the change in his tone Chloe turned to glare up at him. "It wasn't my first option, but I don't look any worse than any other woman in here. And it isn't my fault Lois has the taste of a stripper." They stopped when they reached Hal and she spun on him. "Besides, isn't the point to attract him? I can't very well do that dressed as a nun. And," Chloe jabbed a finger into his chest, "if I recall, the costume Dinah was going to wear, which you didn't object to, was just as trashy. So why am I getting the overbearing treatment?"

"Seriously?" Hal said suddenly. Both blonds turned to look at him. Chloe eye's narrowed slightly in confusion, while Oliver just full on glared. With a roll of his eyes Hal shook his head. "Really."

"You aren't trained for this. Watchtower belongs behind a computer." He said grimly, ignoring the way Hal threw his hand up in exasperation.

"Oliver, I am quite capable of protecting myself."

"Hey," Hal muttered loud enough for them to hear. "Cut the lovers quarrel short. He's coming here. She's your date, act like it."

"Oliver, is this who has been procuring your time?"

Hearing the smooth voice, with a slight edge in it, Oliver swallowed. Interest laced his voice, curiosity. The trap had been sprung and he was going for the bait. Unfortunately, it was Chloe. Turning to face the owner of the voice, Oliver wrapped an arm around Chloe's waist, sliding a hand over her hip and pulling her into his side. It wasn't all an act, Oliver's stomach twisted at the sound of his voice, on instinct Oliver had grabbed Chloe, wanting to keep the man's eyes and hands far away from Chloe. "Damon, this is Chloe. Chloe, Damon."

"I didn't know Oliver knew such a beautiful woman," Damon reached out taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips, "where has he been hiding you?"

Chloe felt his breath hitch, her insides coiling at the feel of his hand around hers and his lips against her knuckles. "Thank you." She whispered, dazedly. It was all she could think to utter. He released her hand suddenly, dropping it as she noted the woman at his side, sliding a hand up his chest. Chloe couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch, and foolishly felt jealous as he turned to the other woman demanding attention.

"It would seem my date requires my attention. Perhaps we can meet up later?"

Chloe nodded, speechless, and that didn't happen very often. He was attractive to be sure, mysterious, to the point that she wanted to follow him, know more about him. And if she did, follow him, she only prayed she could feel his hand on her own, at the very least.

"Hey."

Someone nudged her, but she ignored it.

"Hey!"

It grabbed her arm, yanking her around, ripping her eyes from the man that demanded her attention. Brown eyes stared down at her, a large body towering over her, pushing out the presence that had demanded her attention only moments ago. "Ollie?"

He narrowed his eyes, earlier annoyance with her revealing outfit gone, and instead concentrating on the issue at hand. Something was off with her. If he was reading her properly, it was almost like she just realized he was there.

"Looks like the bait worked," Hal surmised gravely, not sure if he was all that comfortable with what was going on. They knew women disappeared, they knew they turned up dead, their bodies mummified, but now he was starting to wonder if there was something more that lured them in.

Oliver's warm hand on her elbow was like a shock. Almost out of need she grasped his arm with her hand, squeezing it, needing the feel of him beneath her hand.

He looked down at her, noting her confusion. If he wouldn't have known better he would have suspected she didn't even recognize him. "Hey," he said gently, tightening his hand on her arm slightly and bringing a hand up to her face. "What's going on with you?"

His hand on her face, more intimate than the touch on her arm, drew her to him. She stepped closer, grasping the hand over her cheek hand, and sidling up closer she pressed her hips against him.

"Chloe..." He grasped her waist, his fingers pressing into the bare skin of her back, splaying across it. If he hadn't been so focused on her behavior he might have missed the way she inhaled sharply, her chest rising with the breath, the way her mouth parted and eyes widened. When he felt her hand at his chest he glanced down, noting the way she fisted his shirt, pulled at it forcing his body closer as she arched, nudging her hips against him once more. Need flared within him, cock twitching as it hardened. "Come on," he said darkly, dropping his hand from her face and wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to pull her into his body. "Watch him," Oliver demanded of Hal as he yanked Chloe away.

In a haze, Chloe stumbled along, only held up by Oliver arm tight around her waist. She stared at the people passing by her in a blur with painted faces, brightly colored clothing, glitter, wings, masks...The music thumped around her, through her, and somehow seemed to vibrate within her, furthering the need pounding in her womb. The only thing easing it, grounding her, was Oliver's body against hers, warm, hard and secure. Spotting a curtained VIP booth he ushered Chloe towards it, only stopping when they reached a man in a suit that moved to stand in their way. Oliver sighed irritably and dropped his hand from Chloe, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Hurriedly he ripped it open, grabbing a few hundreds and holding them out. "Enough?" A hand at his chest drew his attention away before he received a response. Looking down he found Chloe in front of him, her eyes glazed over and lust-filled, a sensuous smile on her painted lips, sliding her hand beneath his jacket, pressing her body against his again. "Come on," he said and wrapped his arm around her waist, thrusting the curtain to the side and shoving her in. They weren't private, and being that it was Damon's party he didn't trust that they were safe to talk, but he had to know what happened. Pressing a hand into her back he yanked her body against his hard and dropped his head down whispering. "What is going on?"

"I don't know." Chloe's voice shook, need coiling in her womb, heat pooling between her legs, panties damp. Unable to help herself she slid her hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, pulling his head down to force his lips upon hers. To her relief his response was immediate. As his hand buried in her hair, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist she sighed in relief against his mouth. Lips moved in a frenzy against her own and she responded back with as much or maybe even more need. As she pushed herself up onto her toes, hips thrusting against him, she felt his hardness pressing into her.

As she moved, grinding against him mercilessly, he moved his hands down her body, over her ass and to the backs of her bare thighs, fringe from her flapper's dress brushing against the backs of his hands as he slid them up, pushing her dress up and grasping her bare ass.

In a flash he had her up, feet off the floor. Without thinking she wrapped her legs around his waist, ripping her mouth from his and tossing her head back, crying out at the feel of his hard abs pressed against her pussy. Tightening her legs she pressed herself against him harder, easing the building pressure. He moved with her in his arms, but she could have cared less where they ended up. Not when he was between her legs and his mouth was moving along her throat, nipping and sucking at her skin, moving down her collarbone. His body lowered suddenly and her ass was in his lap, shins pressing against cushions. Unfolding her legs she pressed them into the sofa, straddling his body and grinding down upon him. He was hard and pressing against her core, almost as if he was searching her out. With a whimper she pressed harder, finding his lips again and kissing him.

Chloe Sullivan was going to be his unraveling. With his hands no longer occupied with the soft flesh of her ass he moved them over her body, caressing her bare back, pressing her body into his own. As she rolled her hips on him his hands shot to her hips, yanking them down harder. Finding the soft curves of her ass again he grasped onto her, pulling her forward, making her slide along the length of him.

Chloe yanked her lips from his, and buried her face in his neck, arms wrapped tightly around him as her hips moved in tandem with the pull of his hands. "Ollie, please. I need..." Squeezing her eyes shut she moved a hand down his chest, trailing it over the smooth expanse of skin, bared form his opened shirt and down the satiny material of his vest until she found the buckle of his pants. Riding him still, she maneuvered her nimble fingers around his belt. The whole time in the back of her head she knew it was wrong though. As much as she was attracted to Oliver, what was going on...something wasn't right. Even so, she couldn't stop herself from attacking his belt and moving to the buttons of his pants. With a renewed frustration she dropped her other hand from his neck and to his lap. Crashing her lips down upon his again, she used both hands to open his pants. In seconds she could slip him through, rise up on her knees and push her panties to the side and impale herself on him. At the thought of him inside of her, stretching her, filling her she whimpered.

It wasn't until she rose onto her knees and he felt her fumbling with the opening of his boxer briefs did warning bells go off in his head. This wasn't Chloe. Chloe Sullivan didn't attack him, and Chloe Sullivan didn't have sex with him, fully clothed, in the VIP booth of a club. As much as he wanted to feel her hands on him, pulling him out and impaling herself on him, he had to stop. As much as he wanted to fuck her, the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up the next morning and realize that the whole thing had been out of her control. "Chloe," he mumbled, pulling his lips from hers and grabbing her hands, stopping them. Opening his eyes he found her green ones staring back at him wide, almost wild. She whined, wincing, pressing against him again. Her evident need, her desperation for him, made it almost impossible to stop himself from throwing her onto the sofa and fucking her senseless. Almost. "Hey," he said gently, ignoring the need coursing through him. He grabbed her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. "What is it?"

Chloe grasped at his shirt, knowing he was going to stop any further attempt of her to pull his cock out and fuck him. So she resisted the urge to grind on him, instead opening her hands and sinking her nails into his chest, digging into the satiny cloth. The exposed 'V' of his chest, revealed by the unbuttoned shirt, didn't escape her. She knew he felt her frustration as two nails mostly likely bit into his skin.

He winced at the pain she inflicted on him, bringing one hand down to grab both of hers, holding them against his chest, but not allowing her to inflict anymore pain. Her nails dragging down his back he could deal with, in fact he welcomed it, but this was something entirely different. "I shouldn't have let it go this far, I'm sorry." He said softly, hopping she heard him through the thumping of the music and the loud voices. "Chloe, talk to me."

She opened her mouth a few times, like a fish out of water gasping for breath, and then finally forced herself to speak, feeling ridiculous for her inability to talk to him. "It's him Oliver. Whatever he's doing to those women, he's affecting them somehow, and then he kills them. There's more to it then that." As if on cue her insides clenched, knees pressing against his hips, pelvis pressing against his own. He didn't stop her, for that she was grateful. Instead she stopped herself. "I think he's luring them in...with lust." Her voice shook with fear and the insistent need she felt for him. "Some how he makes them feel it."

"He made you feel this?" He asked, squeezing her hands tighter without even realizing it. In response she nodded and his heart skipped a beat, fear flaring within him. Damon had set his sights on Chloe, and they weren't getting out of there without him making a go for her again.


End file.
